


Stay

by writteninweakness



Category: The Cutting Edge (1992)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-14 13:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16913712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writteninweakness/pseuds/writteninweakness
Summary: Doug and Kate have a few things to work through after their program ends.





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lunarknightz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarknightz/gifts).



> Okay, so I have admittedly loved this movie since... well, I'll just call it forever seeing as I don't want to admit to my age. Still, I'd never written for it before, and so I was very intimidated when I got my assignment for Yuletide and it was for this movie. I was afraid I could never do justice to the characters and didn't even know where to start as much as I've always wanted to see what happened after the movie and yet refuse to acknowledge the tv movies as existing.
> 
> I had two lines, the opening one and one other, and that was it, and it took a lot of handholding and support from B to get this done, though all mistakes remain mine.
> 
> I really hope this is something you will enjoy.

* * *

It was impossible to get a moment's peace after pulling off one of the biggest Olympic upsets in history. The reporters were everywhere, asking them how they felt and if the kiss was a part of the program all along.

A kiss for the sake of a skating program? What the hell was that? Did they really think he'd done that just because he wanted a gold medal?

He didn't. He used to think it was what he wanted, back when he first made Team USA. Hockey was his life and he was going to go pro just as soon as the Olympics were over. He had it all planned out. He knew what he'd do, and then he took that hit. He had a blindspot. He'd never play pro hockey. Still, he'd cared enough about being on the ice to try out this figure skating deal, and sure, maybe at first it was about the medal. Why would he do it without going for the gold?

Somewhere along the way, though, all of that changed.

All that mattered now was Kate, and he couldn't lose her after finally finding her. The last couple years weren't enough. He might have worked with her day after day, but he'd never had her, and even when they nailed their performance at the nationals, he didn't have her. She might have thrown herself at him, but that was the alcohol talking.

Tonight, though, that was all Kate. All him. They'd been truly honest for the first time since they met. They'd skated with their hearts, not for a medal but for the sake of skating itself—and for each other—he'd wanted this for her and she seemed to want it for him.

And yet if he didn't get a chance to talk to her before she got on that plane, none of it would matter. He'd lose her anyway.

The reporters were everywhere, dogging their steps. They couldn't even get to the dressing rooms like this, not that it was nearly private enough for what they needed to say.

“Here,” Anton called, waving them over, and Doug thought maybe he also saw Jack somewhere in the mess of everyone, but with the cameras still going off in this crowded space, it was difficult to see anything. Or anyone.

He held a door open for them, and they stepped out into the night, the sound of the reporters behind them enough to make him want to grab Kate and run. A limo waited, engine running and smoke drifting up into the air.

“I think that's our ride.”

Kate nodded, walking toward it. He wondered if this was all planned for her, so she could slip away and go to the airport. That wasn't happening now. He couldn't let it. Even if he had to use the lame excuse of his bags, he wasn't letting her go to that plane.

He crawled in behind Kate, looking at the darkened pane where the driver should be. “How do we make that go down again?”

“Relax,” she said, reaching over him to shut the door. “I already told him where to go.”

Despite her words, Doug didn't and couldn't relax.

* * *

“You told him to come here?” Doug asked, and Kate blinked, surprised. Did he really think that she'd still go forward with leaving after tonight?

She supposed he might. She'd never given him any indication she intended to stay, after all. She'd told him she was flying back, and it was easier to do that than face him again. She'd wanted to run from it all. They'd been willing to blame Brian last time, and this time they would have blamed Doug, but unlike Brian, who'd taken his licks and left, Doug refused. He'd forced the truth out where no one could deny it anymore, not even her.

She'd ruined it all, and yet somehow he stayed. He'd never left her.

Doug saw her for who she was—what she was—and he never turned away from it. He never made her into someone else or used her for his own ends. She wasn't even sure what Hale saw in her, but sometimes she thought he was doing it to keep his position with the company. She didn't think she'd offered him anything that wonderful. He hadn't even been that upset when it ended.

Was that why she'd thrown herself at Doug so quickly? Not just the taunt about foreplay, but because it was clear that no one else wanted her the way she was? Even Doug hadn't, not that night.

“Kate?”

She blinked, turning to him. “Sorry. We shouldn't sit here any longer.”

He nodded, opening the door and helping her out. She didn't think he was that much steadier than she was, since they'd never even made it to the changing rooms, but she didn't care about that. She followed him carefully up the stairs to the door.

“I know you said this place was paid up for the rest of the week, but didn't you already send all your stuff ahead to the airport?”

She had. Even that game sweater he'd given her was packed up and likely already being loaded on the plane as they spoke. “It doesn't matter.”

Doug opened the door and stepped inside. He waited for her, closing the door behind them and locking it up again. “What do you mean, it doesn't matter?”

She shrugged. “I sort of figured if I really needed clothes, I'd just go shopping for them.”

He frowned. “All you've got is what we skated in, and I've never known you not to go right for the shower and change afterward—I mean, hell, nice as all that looks on you, it's got to be cold and it's tight and uncomfortable, and if Anton hadn't given us shoes while we were waiting for the score, we'd still be in our damned skates. How is that okay?”

She pretended to think about that for a second. “Well, to be perfectly honest, I didn't think I'd have much need for clothes.”

Doug stared at her. “What?”

She shrugged. “Don't you think we've had enough foreplay by now?”

His response to that was to kiss her.

* * *

Sunlight slowly filtered into the room, and Doug blinked, groaning. He didn't really want to wake up yet. Last night took a toll on him—both on and off the ice, not that he'd ever admit that to Kate. Still, she'd worn him out good, and he wasn't sure he could move. Not that he wanted to. Somewhere in the middle of all that, they'd actually made it to a bed, and this was good enough for him. He had Kate in his arms, and he could lie here forever.

He'd never thought he'd be the type of guy who would say or even think stupid stuff like he could die here and it would be fine with him, but that was almost how he felt. He wasn't sure they could top what they did last night, though he was more talking about the medal they'd won than the sex. He still had plenty of hope for that.

“What are you grinning about?”

“You're awake.”

She nodded, watching him with those eyes of her that saw right through him most of the time. “What are you thinking?”

“Dumb stuff.”

“Well, it is you.”

He reached for the other pillow, but before he could hit her with it, she'd moved up closer to his face. “Tell me.”

“You ever have a perfect moment?” Doug asked, and she frowned at him. He supposed she hadn't, always living with her mother's memory and Jack's expectations looming over her. “I thought I did once, that time I told you about at the state championships when they carried me off the ice? That was my perfect moment. Didn't think it could get better than that. Or making it to the Olympics with the hockey team. All the best seemed to be behind me after that. Then came our win at nationals. And then... this. Last night. The medal. Us. That... there's never going to be anything like that again.”

She studied him. “That mean you want to take it back?”

“Hell, no.”

That made her smile, but he could tell she was worried. He wasn't explaining this well at all.

“I just... I think you finally found it last night, Kate,” he said, and she frowned at him. “Remember when I told you that you'd skate a lot better if you let yourself enjoy it a little? That's what the real victory was last night. Not the medal. Maybe not even us. You skated like you loved it, and I got to be there with you when you did. And... damn it, Kate. I don't want another partner. I never want another partner.”

She laughed a little. “Doug, you know I'm not really meant for this. I did it for so long because it was what my father wanted, and I don't have to do it anymore.”

“I know. That's my point. You don't, but you could. If you wanted to, you could. And I'm not saying this to make you think you have to do it with me, but I... I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Kate. On and off the ice. You're my partner. We don't make sense with anyone else, and we're no good for anyone else, either, but together... I don't care if we never compete again. I don't need another medal. I just need you.”

She brushed at her cheek. “You're not supposed to say that. It's not fair. I... I was doing the right thing, letting you go to another partner. You still have a future in this sport. I—”

“You are my future. One way or another, it's you.”

“You can't quit just because—”

“I never said I was quitting. I just said I'm doing this with you.”

* * *

“So this is south of Neanderthal,” Kate observed, amused. Next to her, Doug fidgeted. She knew he was nervous about showing her his home. She could tell when he first asked her to come with him, and he hadn't calmed down since. Not before they flew back, not on the plane, and not since leaving the airport.

He kept looking at her like he expected a bunch of complaints, but aside from a slight feeling that might be jet-lag—or the way she'd tried to wear him out enough to relax the night before—she was fine. She didn't have much experience sitting in the passenger seat of the car—usually she was chauffeured everywhere—so it was a bit of a change.

Not unwelcome, just... different.

“Uh, yeah.”

She smiled at him, tempted to let him keep squirming, but for all it was far from the home she'd been raised in, it had a certain sort of charm. “I like it.”

“You don't have to say that.”

“I'm not saying it because I don't mean it. If I didn't mean it, I wouldn't say it,” she said. “Where's your family? This is your house, isn't it?”

He grimaced. “Uh... actually, no.”

“No?”

“Don't worry. You'll meet all of them and see my place later, I swear. There's just... there's somewhere I want to show you first,” he said, and she frowned, but he held out a hand to her. “You trust me, right?”

That was a loaded question, but she supposed it wasn't worth trying to deny it. She'd put her trust in him a long time ago, as her partner on the ice. If she hadn't trusted him to lift her, they'd have gotten nowhere.

She took his hand. “This better be good.”

He grinned back at her. “You'll love it. Or at least, I hope you will. Come on.”

She walked with him out behind the cabin and down a small hill past a few trees. After they passed them, she stopped. “You brought me to a lake?”

“Land of a thousand lakes, but this is just a pond.” He took her hand again, pulling her out onto the ice with him. She stared down at it.

“Is this even safe?”

He nodded. “It freezes solid every year. Has since before I was born, and hopefully it still will long after I'm dead. Wouldn't be the same if it didn't.”

“Why are we here?”

“Remember I told you about that article and me loving the smell of the ice?”

Of course. How could she have forgotten that? It had seemed so strange to her, and then they'd ended up arguing like usual and that led to that hockey game and a trip to the emergency room. “Yes.”

“This is it. This is where I started out, where I first learned to love it. My father brought me and my older brother out here one year, and that was it. I just couldn't get enough of being out on it. Didn't matter how many times I fell or when I started playing hockey and I got hurt... I just loved being on the ice. It was the only thing that mattered to me.”

She frowned. He'd already said he didn't intend to skate without her. What was this? An attempt to blackmail her into staying his partner?

“Doug—”

“It's not the only thing that matters anymore,” he said. “Working with you, I learned a lot, and not just about figure skating, not just moves and techniques. This'll sound stupid, but I don't think I really understood what it was like to be a part of a team before.”

She shook her head. “You played hockey.”

“I know I did, but it was all about me, getting out there and scoring the goals... I didn't think about much else. Not before I couldn't play. With us, we really had to work together to make it good, and it is good. Really good. And not just on the ice.”

She smiled slightly. “Maybe.”

“Oh, that's a challenge, and I'll definitely answer it, but I gotta finish this first, okay? Look, this isn't easy for me, either, and I'm never going to be the best at talking stuff like this out, but I realized something not that long ago—”

“Really? And what was that?”

“That even though I'd made up my mind about what I wanted, you might not have made up yours. And I can't go making it for you,” he said, and she stared at him. “That same day we talked about my love of the ice, I said something to you that really got your goat.”

“I don't have a goat. Maybe you do, out here in neanderthal, but—”

“Stop it, okay? Just let me get this out. You said you didn't need another person telling you what to do. And you don't. Kate, you know your own mind. You know what you really want. I know I want to keep skating with you, but I'm okay skating here, on a pond like this if it's all we have. I just want to be with you. Damn it, this still isn't coming out right. What I meant was... I can't tell you to keep skating if you don't want to. I want to be your partner, but that doesn't mean you have to keep skating. If you want to retire... that's up to you.”

She stared at him. “Well, listen to you being the bigger man and all enlightened and—”

“Don't. Don't pick a fight with me right now. It's not easy for me to stand back, even if I know that it should always have been your choice. Your father didn't give you one, or you thought he didn't. I don't want us to be like that, okay?”

They weren't. For all that they fought, she didn't feel the same pressure from Doug that she'd felt from her father or even her previous coach. Anton was different. She got the sense he actually cared about them, but that didn't mean he didn't push. He was a good coach, after all.

“I'll make my own decision.”

Doug nodded. “That's good. That's... really good.”

She rolled her eyes. “You're such an idiot. Did you really think I wouldn't?”

“No.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did—forget it. Look, you brought your skates, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then... what about that rematch you owe me?”

* * *

“I had fun today.”

“Don't say it like it surprised you,” Doug said, and Kate rolled her eyes at him. “Come on. We have plenty of fun together. Or did you think you'd hate it here?”

She shook her head, snuggling up closer to him. His room back home was small and cramped, and his family had been something else—though she was sure not all of them were family there, despite his older brother's claims—but she didn't mind. She knew he'd been worried about it, even after their hockey game. He'd tensed right up again until after a few rounds at the bar.

“I mean, it's not the Ritz, not like your place—”

“I didn't come with you expecting a red carpet or anything.”

“I know, but you gotta admit, this isn't what you're used to, is it?”

No, of course not, but that didn't make it terrible. This was different, but this was where Doug came from, and she'd be a fool to think her life wouldn't change if he was a part of it. This was his family, his home, and she couldn't keep him away from it. She didn't want to.

“Would you say I was happy back there?”

Doug swallowed. He took a moment before letting out a breath and answering. “No. I mean, sure, you smiled every now again, and you definitely enjoyed some stuff, usually at my expense, but you weren't ever that happy, not that I saw. Hell, I told Hale to invest in blinders since he didn't want to see you unhappy.”

“You did?”

Doug shrugged. “He was trying to tell me it was my fault. I wasn't willing to accept that. You were angry before I got there. It wasn't all on me, and I refuse to be the designated asshole.”

She smiled. Yes, he'd said that before, hadn't he? Not exactly that way, but it was the same thought. He wasn't wrong, either. Though he'd certainly irritated her, it wasn't like everything that was wrong was his fault. All of that went way back to her childhood and her issues with her father that she'd only recently been able to voice.

“You really are happy here?”

She shrugged. “I'm not saying it's the most comfortable place I've ever stayed or that I suddenly forgot what having my own room was like, or even that just being with you makes me happy—I'm not that cliché—but it was fun. Your family was nice.”

“But?”

She shook her head. She knew she was used to a lot more. She grew up with money and luxury, and that wouldn't just go away because she loved a man who'd had very little of that. Still, that didn't mean they'd fall apart in an instant, either. Maybe she only tolerated it for a while.

Maybe they settled here. She didn't know yet what they'd decide to do. That was still ahead of them, and they had time for that. No need to rush.

“You coach or you skate.”

“What?”

“After you stop skating, you become a coach, right? That's how it is with any sport, isn't it? You can't play anymore, so you coach. You don't go find some other life. And I've been thinking a lot about that... if I retired, does that mean I'm only fit to coach now?”

Doug shook his head. “Hell, no. You're better than that, Kate.”

She nodded. “I know coaching isn't what I want. That much I'm sure of now.”

“Okay. So, you thinking of joining your father's business or going back to college or something?”

She studied him. “Why didn't you ask if I was going to keep skating with you?”

“I told you—I can't make that decision for you. I don't want to push. I know what I want, but I can't make that what you want or need. You have to do what's right for you. That's not easy for me to say, but I'm saying it anyway.” He reached over and pushed back a bit of her hair. “I had fun today, too. Just you and me skating on a little pond in the middle of nowhere. It's not the Olympics, but screw the Olympics. Just tell me I can keep skating with you, and it'll be enough.”

“Even when I beat you at hockey?”

“You really have to lay off the cheap shots at my nose.”

“You started it.”

“How did I start it?”

“You know exactly how. You provoked me.”

He pretended to consider that. “Huh. Maybe this won't work for us, then.”

“What?”

“Well, I'm pretty good at riling you up. You might end up killing me before this is all over,” he teased, grinning at her. She grabbed a pillow and hit him with it. “See what I mean? I might not survive this, you know.”

“Maybe not,” she said, “but it would be one hell of a way to go, don't you think?”

“Damn, I love you.”

“One of these days you will have to let me say it first.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely by the time we win our next medal.”

“Our next...” He stopped, suddenly completely sober and serious. “Kate, are you saying...?”

She nodded. She hadn't really stopped thinking about it since their last night on the ice, and after he said he didn't want another partner, she'd thought about it even more, needing to be sure of what she felt. She wasn't doing this for him. She was doing it for her.

She knew what she wanted.

“I've made up my mind. I'm not retiring. I'm going to keep skating. With you.”


End file.
